


a gift of the spy

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Anal Sex, Cock Cages, Dark Magic, Falsely Gentle Sex, Gags, Impact Play, M/M, Magical Bondage, Punishment, Rape, Restraints, Rough Sex, Sex Magic, Sexual Slavery, Spy Severus Snape, Threats, Victim Trapped Inside Their Own Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27975240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: The Dark Lord won the war, the enemies are down, Potter is dead and Dumbledore even more so, the spies are exposed, or will be.Severus is discovered, and Lucius is charged with taking care of the matter. Which he will do, and gladly so.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57
Collections: Consent Issues Exchange 2020





	a gift of the spy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pt_tucker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pt_tucker/gifts).



Dark, green grass, for acres and acres — some visible from outside the goblin-meld fence, some concealed by centuries of magic — and the night, pouring over it, sliding slow and almost comfortable as it ineluctably swallowed all light. The Manor's Grounds were always Lucius's favourite retreat, of the whole domain, no room, chamber or even secret passage could ever quite soothe him like the immensity of the grounds. The rose garden was Narcissa's personal haven, Lucius preferred the undergrown, messier pathways leading into the centennial bushes even magic couldn't make yield. 

He walked, treading ways he'd beaten with his steps hundreds of times over the last fifty and then some years. He breathed, better than he ever did inside the house nowadays. Lucius could feel the wind here, right at the corner behind the library's large windows, just out of view, right where the air blew and sliced the hardest. 

He'd spent the entire day outside, had watched the sky turn from orange, to a blue so icy it was like looking into his own eyes, to darker and darker again. He felt a kinship to that process the likes of which he would have once laughed at, snickered even. He did not laugh anymore. No one had come to find him, nor would anytime soon he imagined. They would never find his wife and son. Narcissa was always the best at escape and disguise spells. 

Sixty-seven days. Sixty-seven days since he'd last seen them, in the midst of the last Battle, the march on Hogwarts. Sixty-seven days since his wife had blown a kiss in the air across the broken stone of the schoolyard. Since he'd watched her search and find Draco and take his hand, and apparate away. He didn't know where they were, and neither did anyone else. 

So no one had come to find him today, nor would anyone try the next, or the one after that. 

It was a relief, somehow. The Dark Lord had won, the enemies were down in one way or another — killed, in Potter's case, enslaved in others, chased in many ways for all the remaining Order members. Lucius could fleet away now, he didn't have to keep up the pretense of standing on his feet any other way than lopsidedly. 

He walked back to the house still, because he was growing colder by the minute, and because he felt like sitting in a proper chair instead of the hard rock of the benches in the gardens. 

He pushed the large oak door, let it swish closed like heavy doors usually do, like this one had always done. Lucius took his winter cloak off, not paying any mind to the holes at the elbows and shoulder seams he felt as he hung it near the door. He felt hollow as he walked up the stairs, into the main lobby, into the room that had stopped belonging to him the minute the Dark Lord had set foot in it all those years ago. 

He felt hollower when he saw what was going on there. When he caught a glimpse of the man who was shackled, bound to a wooden X in the middle of the room, only a sliver of his face visible, his dark, long hair hiding most of the rest. 

Lucius's heartbeat started pounding at his ears as he recognized the punishment for the fault it was meant to right — spies were to be exposed. Severus Snape. Severus. Bound with chains made heavier by the cruciatus curse they were laden with. 

Severus, who Lucius had once trusted with his life, who he'd come to resent if not hate, for his place at the Dark Lord's right side. Turned out the right side might have been his blindest spot. 

It no longer was. 

"Lucius!" A grave, yet absurdly, chillingly excited voice called. 

Lucius didn't jump like he might once have. He simply turned around slowly, facing his master with as much of an expression as he was capable of, which wasn't much. 

Lord Voldemort did not look happy, ever, but this was a close as it got — burning anger turning to spikes of ice Lucius could feel freezing his spine where he stood, pinned there by two slits that served his master as eyes. 

"My Lord?" Lucius wound his hands together in front of him in respect. It was all he had anymore, the appearance of respect — it was enough for Voldemort to be appeased around him, which Lucius could recognize was important, even in his current state of disinterest. 

"Severus here, did a very, very bad thing." The Dark Lord said, punctuating his otherwise monotonous, slow tone with a smile that had sharper teeth than Lucius's most frightening dreams. "He  _ spied _ on me. You know what that means, don't you, Lucius?" 

Lucius could almost feel the shortness of Severus's breath across the room. His heartbeat had not calmed down, nor the racing of his mind, which was a rather novel sensation. He hadn't felt quite as aware in a long time. 

"Spies must be exposed." Lucius said laconically. He shuddered seeing the unnatural way the Dark Lord responded to his own rules, leaning back as if to laugh, only to twist his arm back and forward, angling his pointer finger like a wand, his pale, and overly long nail pointing right at Severus as he starting incantating, his voice raising and raising, parseltongue and latin mixing to make Severus contort on the cross. 

"Take him." The Dark Lord ordered when he let his arm fall back at his side, every movement he made, every step he took, as sudden and angry as the order itself. "Take him away from me before _I_ _kill him._ Expose him for me, Lucius. Humiliate him. _Use_ him." Voldemort stared Lucius down, his twisted smile back as he whispered, "He's yours." And then disappeared in a black hole of smoke. 

Lucius considered his former friend, former comrade in arms. The man who'd made his life a living hell by sitting at the right hand of the Dark Lord all these years. The man who had supposedly tried to help his son when tasked with an impossible endeavor. The man who, in sum, had usurped his place in every way but the conjugal one — Lucius had made sure Severus didn't get anywhere near Narcissa. 

He watched him, the wretched sight he made, bare and trembling uncontrollably. Shackled to a cross he had been too cowardly to bear without turning his cloak. Lucius sneered, and snapped his fingers so that Severus fell onto the ground, his bindings restructuring to leave out the cross but chain his limbs together, then snapped them again so Severus's body floated mere inches above ground, lifeless save for the aftershocks of his torture. 

He did not look back when, while walking up to his bedroom — the blue guest, he couldn't sleep in Narcissa's space without her being there too — the noise his footsteps made was echoed time and again by the dull thuds of Severus's body bumping into the stone of the staircase. Who cared?

"Sleep." Lucius commanded, pulling the chains circling Severus's neck and hands tight so he'd be as close to Lucius's bed as he could without being in it. "I intend on sleeping, and I will not tolerate you interrupting that, understood?" He said, tugging on Severus's hair so their eyes would meet. 

Lucius didn't last very long, Severus had always been too good at staring people into the ground, even and maybe most of all when he didn't say anything. Lucius himself had been the subject of it one too many times — it made him angry, made his hands shake as he kept his grip tight, "A spy." He spat, "A dirty, disgusting little spy. Dumby's little pet, hm?" 

Severus was indeed unable to speak, what with the enormous plug Lucius had conjured to ensure he wouldn't, and the joy of seeing him glare helplessly was almost enough for Lucius to forget he wanted to sleep more than anything else. Almost. 

"Let me sleep, and I won't hurt you. Too much." Lucius whispered. "Play nice, you know how to do that,  _ pretend _ ." 

Then Lucius let go, tightened Severus's binds again and climbed in his bed. He watched the mop of Severus's hair he could see above the edge of the mattress, tiredly considered the burden he'd been given, and closed his eyes. 

He just wanted to spend time in the grounds, and now he was saddled with the traitor who'd made his life miserable for years. He just wanted to imagine what his wife and son were up to, picture them in France, or Russia, away from it all, happy. And instead he would have to deal with making sure Severus paid for his crimes. 

Maybe he'd have fun with it, but Severus had never made it easy for anyone to take what they wanted from him, Lucius couldn't imagine it would be any different now. He wasn't foolish enough for that anymore. 

_ A spy _ . Of course. 

* * *

Lucius's dreams were always some form of violent, bloody even. Filled with screams that didn't fade when he woke up, half the time because they had been his own, the other half because he was so choked up it was all he could hear besides his own breathing. 

He woke up that night, not alone in bed anymore. His mind quiet, up until the moment he realized why he couldn't hear screams this time — two hands, hard, relentless, were wound around his neck. Pressing on his throat. Fingernails digging at the back of his neck. At the birth of his skull. Severus's hands. 

Lucius's eyes flew open to find a curtain of black hair around his face, a determined, crazy look in the other man's eyes — in the  _ spy's  _ eyes — and fought back. He reached for Severus's wrists, thrashed on the bed, suffocating, scratching deep lines over Severus's forearms and then his face even. 

Before he remembered the cuffs around the man's hands were filled with magic. Biding magic. Magic that meant Severus wouldn't even be able to cast a simple cleaning spell as long as he'd have them on, and Lucius unleashed his own. 

Wandless magic had never been his forte, but he had to admit that under threat, his outbursts could scare even himself sometimes. 

It didn't disappoint this time either. 

Severus flew across the room, his mouth dropping open at the shock his back crashing into the wall provoked, his body sagging as his head drooped. 

Lucius smiled, watching him scramble to get up, touching his neck where Severus's hands had been before shouting, "Down!" 

Lucius got up, satisfied by the sight of Severus's body, sprawled on the floor, as naked as he had been when he'd first seen him on the cross the night before. 

"You miserable whore. I'll make you pay. I told you to play nice," Lucius bent down to grab Severus by the arm, and dragged him out of his bedroom. "I told you and you chose not to, you chose  _ the painful alternative _ . But then again, you often do, don't you?" 

* * *

If Lucius had intended to take his time when he dragged the spy to his dark room by the hair, he did not remember that when they did get to it. 

In a swing of his wrist, Severus went flying across the room until his head was jammed in the hole designed for it in Lucius's favorite pillory, and then his arms followed. A simple flick sufficed to shackle the man's upper body to the contraption, and another spread Severus's legs in the air, before binding them to the two spreads of black wood meant to welcome a victim's calves. 

He was at his mercy, and Lucius's anger suddenly filled him with such force and such blinding power that everything he did after that, was fueled by the need to hurt, to take back, to enjoy himself by way of inflicting his grief onto his new slave's body, if not his mind as well. 

Everything, the lashes of anger that became invisible whipping, leaving traces of a flaming red onto Severus's naked ass, the shouts of pain, that became a thudding beating of the back of Severus's thighs, leaving them to bruise at a pace fast enough to be observed in real time… all of it was Lucius, performing his own catharsis. 

He found peace, when Severus started crying out openly where he had, up until then, been biting his sounds off out of, most certainly, pride and resentment. But he couldn't anymore, and Lucius found he delighted in having reduced him to this point. Made him small enough to shout in pain as he himself felt his cock fill in with the need to take even more. 

Magic made Lucius buzz, brimming with power as he once again let his fingers dance in the air and a resounding slurp echoed around the black walls of his playroom, signalling the newfound wetness of Severus's ass. 

"I am going to ruin you, and when you are ruined, I will keep going, until you wished you were dead. Until you learn to obey me as your Master Severus, and not in the way you have spied on our Lord, but truly, instinctively, in your sleep,  _ obey _ my every whim and word." 

* * *

The sheets were damp with the remaining wetness in Severus's hair and the stray droplets that covered his limbs where Lucius hadn't dried him well enough. He intended to lick them off him. He would, in a minute, when he was through with staring at this gift the Dark Lord had given him, finally, something to take his mind off his loneliness and anguish at not knowing where his family was. Where they had escaped to. Finally, a reward for all these years of giving his life and all his earthly possessions to his master. He was given the Dark Lord's Chosen One turned out to be the traitor among their ranks. 

"That's better, isn't it?" Lucius grazed his nails down both of Severus's sides, watching him jerk before he bound him down with magic, closing his fist in the air. Locking him up inside his own body, at Lucius's mercy. "That's so much better, behaving will get you far Severus, take it in, that is the only way you and I are going to be happy." 

Lucius smiled at Severus, stared in delight at the way the spider gag he had conjured was so effectively keeping Severus's mouth open for him, yet silent, no matter the tempest going on in the man's eyes. He had cried earlier, silent tears falling down his placid cheeks while Lucius bathed him, erasing the traces of his  _ treatment _ in the dark room. Lucius smiled and leaned over Severus, yanking at his legs to spread them and lift the man's knees. He jammed a throw pillow under Severus's hips and moaned as he angled his cock to penetrate Severus again. 

He pushed forward in one smooth motion, and then gentled his pace. He whispered a spell and watched, manic with arousal, as delicate metal bars closed around Severus's soft cock, gathering it and his balls into a neat package caged in Lucius's magic, "You won't ever need that again."

He took, and took, and took, and much like it had felt in the dark room, Lucius felt himself grow calmer the more he fucked into Severus's tightness. The more he enjoyed the warmth of the man's hole, gaping around his cock after being so roughly handled. The more he mouthed and bit at his gift's shoulders and neck and cheeks. The more he pushed his tongue inside Severus's mouth, tasting his anger and helplessness. 

"You are mine, and you will learn how to be good at it, even if I have to beat it into you." He grinned at the revulsion he could see reflected in Severus's eyes, he could almost hear the sneer he would give him, even now, if Lucius let him talk. It didn't deter him in the slightest, if anything, it made his cock harder, his balls draw up with arousal and readiness to fill Severus up until come would gush out of his hole around his cock, and then keep going until Lucius would be too sensitive not to stop. 

"The Dark Lord will be back in a week, we ought to prepare him a little surprise. What do you say? We could give him a show? I'm sure he would be most pleased to watch you get undone under me, covered in my come and gagging on my cock." 

Lucius smiled, all teeth and no joy at the next image that made it past the haze of pleasure he was bathing in — "Maybe he will even want to fuck you himself. I don't mind sharing." 

The thought alone was enough to push Lucius over the edge, his hips stuttering in bliss and his eyes closing from the strength of his orgasm, a wave of ecstasy pulling him under, making him snap his cock in and out and in a few more times, pushing his spend further in, taking more of Severus with every thrust. 

He laughed, when he was done, he laughed hard enough to make himself cry. 

He wouldn't be lonely anymore. He wouldn't be bored. He could forget about his wife and son leaving him behind. He had his gift. 


End file.
